


Drivers Side

by ttsg



Category: Bandom, Panic! at the Disco
Genre: Handcuffs, M/M, Police, Shameless Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-22
Updated: 2017-10-22
Packaged: 2019-01-21 07:43:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,890
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12452781
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ttsg/pseuds/ttsg
Summary: Dallon swears he's a good driver. The amount of times he's pulled over says he is not.





	Drivers Side

**Author's Note:**

> so this is actually based on shit that happened to me. like, everything through the 3rd is actually what happened to me. 4th and 5th is where i took creative control. 
> 
> i was pulled over 3 times in one month. i was livid

Dallon really wasn’t a bad driver. He’d been driving for a long time and he was proud that he’d never been in a crash before (come close to it a few times) and had never gotten a ticket (moving, at least, he said parking tickets didn’t count and those weren’t his fault anyway). 

 

His headlights had burned out and him and his sister were planning on going to a concert that weekend. He’d be driving at night and, well, headlights were kind of really important. He changed them on Friday and then the two of them left Friday night. 

 

They were driving and Dallon was paranoid, nervous about going so far from home with his kid sister. She was fifteen but still, he was in charge of another human being.    
  
“Is the left side of the road dimmer than the right?” He asked, squinting at the road as they went on their way. His sister shrugged, looking up from her phone. 

 

“Maybe you just got the wrong brightness,” She offered and he nodded, sitting back into his seat.

 

They got about an hour from their house, three left until they got to the venue when he saw the lights behind him.

 

Dallon had only been pulled over once in his life. That was when he was fifteen with his permit, his mother in the passenger seat. She talked him through the whole thing and the cop was just letting them know that their tags had expired. He gave them a warning and let them go. It wasn’t even Dallon’s car.

 

The blue and red behind him was terrifying, still. He pulled over to the side of the highway and rolled down his window, head on the steering wheel while he waited.

 

“Fuck, I was fucking speeding, wasn’t I?” He asked, panicked because he didn’t need another thing on top of his own responsibilities. This was supposed to be a fun road trip for them, a ticket would only stress him out more. 

 

His sister was in the passenger seat, texting all her friends about how her brother got pulled over. Nobody believed her so she took a video on Snapchat to prove it. She started the video, most of it on the ceiling of the car where the red and blue lights were obviously flashing. Right when she started, the officer who pulled them over banged his flashlight loudly on the passenger side window, startling both of them. Dallon hadn’t expected him on that side and it made him jump.

 

He rolled the window down as quick as he could, looking over to the officer who leaned down. He was younger than Dallon was expecting, a small frown on his lips. 

 

“Hello, I have to inform you that this interaction is being recorded via my bodycam. My name is Officer Urie, can I have your license and registration, please?” He asked and Dallon scrambled to find the papers he needed from his glove box.

 

“Been meaning to clean that out,” he mumbled, handing the two over to the officer, sitting back in his seat. The officer looked into the glove box that now had papers falling out and he shook his head.

 

Officer Urie read over his things before handing them back. He rested his hands on the frame of the window, leaning down and sighing. Dallon’s sister was visibly uncomfortable, not liking confrontation and not like the stranger so close to her. 

 

“You do know a headlight is out, right?” He asked and Dallon’s face dropped. He knew that his driver's side headlight shouldn’t have gone out that week, he just assumed it was a bad bulb. If it was that again then he knew there was a problem. He didn’t have the money for a problem so he was hoping. 

 

“Which one?” He asked dumbly. The officer was more than annoyed but he went to the front of the car and came back.

 

“Drivers side,” he said and Dallon groaned, thumping his head against the headrest. 

 

“Look, Sir,” he started, leaning over the center console and invading his sister’s bubble. She tried to shrink back into the seat, “I just changed my headlights this morning. I swear to God, I did,” he explained and maybe Officer Urie could see the panicked or desperate look in Dallon’s eyes so he nodded.

 

“Alright, get that fixed though,” he said before heading back to his squad car.

 

Dallon called his parents the next day and apologized that he’d bring his sister back a day late. “I am not driving back at night after the concert. No fucking way. Yes, I’m sorry, Mom, I didn’t mean to curse.”

 

*

 

Dallon and his sister had a thing about going for night drives. It was fun because nobody was on the road at two in the morning and the area they lived in had tons of trees. It was creepy and they’d seen some unexplainable stuff but then they’d turn the music up loud and it was all better. They screamed lyrics and laughed over stories from their past and it was fun for them.

 

One of the highways turned into a single lane road that went through the forest. It went past a dam and on a cliff and it was always a fun drive. It took them out to Skamania where they’d turn around and head back home. 

 

That’s where they were tonight, turning around in a grocery store parking lot. The speed limit on that stretch of road changed multiple times and Dallon hardly paid attention. He knew he was going a little slow already and a car came up behind him, tailgating and getting on Dallon’s nerves immediately.

 

“Damn, people these days,” he said, stepping on the gas to bring his speed up. He knew then that he was speeding but he did that all the time, he never got caught. He was going sixty in a fourty-five zone and the person behind him turned their lights on. They flashed blue and red and every ounce of will to live drained out of his body. 

 

His sister slouched in the seat, covering her face.

 

“Dallon, really?” She asked as he pulled over.

 

There wasn’t much of a shoulder but Dallon did the best he could. It took him a second before he rolled down his windows but when he did, he finally heard that the officer was on his loud speaker, voice annoyed at having to repeat his request.

 

“Pull forward to the next available turnoff,” he said and Dallon started his car again. 

 

He ranted to his sister, confused and anxious.

 

“What’s the appropriate speed? How fast should I go? How far? When do I stop?” She ignored every question and when Dallon stopped again and wasn’t told to pull forward, he figured it was good. 

 

Dallon made sure both windows were down.

 

The cop walked up on Dallon’s side, leaning down.

 

“Hello, my name is Officer Urie and this conversation is being recorded. License and registration, please?” He asked, shining his flashlight into the car. It blinded Dallon so he couldn’t see the mans face but the voice, Dallon knew he recognized it. Urie couldn’t have even been that common of a name. What were his chances of getting the same man. 

 

“Wow, could this be love at first sight or should I drive by again?” Dallon asked, leaning over to pull his things out of the glovebox and hand them over. He grinned up at the officer who looked a little confused. He gave Dallon a small chuckle, looking over the paper. 

 

“What?” He asked, a small smile that showed a hint of teeth as he handed Dallon’s stuff back.

 

“You’re photogenically dressed, Sir. Please don’t give me a ticket,” Dallon said, looking up at the officer. He laughed then, hands resting on the car again.

 

“I just like informing people their headlights are out. Thought I told you to replace that, though,” he said, tsking Dallon quietly. 

 

“Sorry,” he mumbled, shrugging. 

 

Officer Urie nodded before standing back up. 

 

“I don’t want to see you again, Dallon Weekes,” he said, walking away. 

 

“Dallon, really? Are you trying to flirt your way out of a ticket?” His sister asked, sending another video of red and blue lights to her friends. 

 

“Do you think it worked? He’s cute, I wouldn’t mind,” he said and she groaned.

 

*

 

They went to go see a movie a week later. In retrospect, Dallon knew he should have gone straight home. It was his sister who asked for Dutch Bros, wanting a coffee at midnight. It was his sister who asked to go for a drive. 

 

When they weren’t driving out to Skamania, they went through a loop of the town that took them through patches of forest. Dallon always ended up somewhere he knew how to get back home from so it was almost an adventure to get lost.

 

They were on their way to go to the loop and they couldn’t have been in the car for more than ten minutes. He knew he was speeding again, going around a curve too fast. On the other side of the road, there was a small patch of shoulder where a car was parked. Dallon couldn’t take his eyes off the road. 

 

“That was probably a cop,” he joked after his serious unfortunate luck the last two weeks. She laughed and nodded. As Dallon passed the car, he saw headlights come on and the car make a U-turn to start following Dallon. He knew that either he’d die tonight or it actually was a cop.

 

The lights came on and Dallon let out an inhuman sound.

 

“Third time in one month,” he raged to his sister, pulling into the parking lot of a lake. He stopped the car and rolled down his windows, leaning forward to hit his head against the steering wheel. He’d managed to dodge tickets the last two times he’d been pulled over and he didn’t think he could manage that but somehow. He knew his luck was running low though. 

 

The officer walked up and Dallon peered out of his window to see who it was and felt the last of his energy drain from his body. He was starting to think that maybe this officer had it out for him.

 

“Hello, my name is Officer Urie, this conversation is being recorded,” he said and Dallon tried to put on a convincing smile. The officer didn’t even have to ask, watching as Dallon reached over to open his glove box, pulling out his papers before handing them over to the officer. 

 

Officer Urie just handed them back, already having looked at them twice in the last month. He’d written Dallon’s license number so much that he practically had it memorized. 

 

He handed everything back, sighing and rubbing at his eyes as he leaned down so he could be as much face to face with Dallon as possible. 

 

“Didn’t I tell you to get it fixed?” He asked and Dallon groaned, covering his face for a moment.

 

“Look, I’m sorry, I know it’s broken, okay? I made an appointment to take it in next week. It’s gonna be like three hundred to replace that part and I don’t have that money. I get paid on friday and then I’ll take it in as soon as the place is open,” he said, rushing through his words. Officer Urie seemed sympathetic though, looking down at the floor.

 

“Friday?” He asked finally and Dallon nodded. 

 

“Yea, that’s when I get paid and then as soon as the shop will let me,” Dallon explained and the officer nodded. 

 

“Fine, but get that thing fixed, okay?” He said, looking like he was trying to think something through. Dallon didn’t waste much time after that, spewing out thank you after thank you, telling him what a good officer he was. 

 

When they were pulling away, Dallon’s sister helpfully pointed out that it sounded like Dallon had been talking to his dog. 

 

*

 

Dallon saw the lights as he was driving home from work on Thursday. There was a sense of dread that went through him. He knew there was no way he could continue to get out of tickets when it was his fourth time. He thought he explained that he would do it as soon as he could but apparently it wasn’t enough. 

 

He looked out of his window as the officer approached and he felt livid when he saw it was the same guy. He couldn’t actually believe his luck. He didn’t even give the officer a chance to speak when he rolled his window down.

 

“What the fuck, dude? I thought I told you that I couldn’t get it fixed until next week. I was on my way home from work, what do you expect me to do? This isn’t fair. You know what my car looks like, the fucking piece is broken, I can’t do anything for it. I haven an appointment with the shop and I’m taking it in as soon as I have the money,” he was stopped mid rant when the officer raised his hand. He didn’t look annoyed though. He had a small smile on his face like it was some big joke to him.

 

“Look, cutie-” Officer Urie started, getting cut off by Dallon.

 

“What the fuck? Why would you say that? You’re annoying as hell but I don’t want you to get fired,” he started and the officer looked a little put off and Dallon couldn’t get his mouth to stop. He raised his hands in defense, stumbling over his words. “N-not to say like, that I didn’t appreciate it. It’s nice, you’re nice, you’re cute, I just, what if you get fired? You couldn’t harass cute guys when you pull them over. Not that I’m full of myself but, I’m gonna stop,” he said, sitting back in his seat, reaching to grab the steering wheel.

 

Dallon was staring straight ahead, clenching his jaw to keep himself from saying anything else.

 

“Why would I get fired?” He asked, raising his eyebrows and Dallon looked over to him, furrowing his eyebrows.

 

“Aren’t you like, not supposed to flirt with customers?” He asked, digging himself a deeper hole. The officer laughed, shaking his head. “I mean, won’t you get in trouble? Do they listen to the recordings?”

 

“Well, first, they aren’t customers, you aren’t paying me to write you up and second, did you hear me say that this was being recorded?” He asked, grinning as he looked at Dallon’s confused face.

 

“Well, no,” he started, looking over to the officer. He was even more confused than before.

 

“Exactly. I didn’t pull you over to tell you that your headlight is out,” he said and Dallon noticed that his cheeks got red. He dropped his hands from the steering wheel. “I just, I know how bad things can be when money is tight. I was there for a long time. It sucks and it feels crappy and cars aren’t cheap, ya know?” He said, sighing and then reaching into his pocket. He pulled out a wad of cash and handed it to Dallon, his smile a little forced.

 

“I wanted to help. I know it’s not professional and I’d get my ass chewed if they found out about this but, yeah, you’re cute and I felt bad about bothering you. It was funny,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck.

 

“I can’t take this,” Dallon mumbled, looking down at the money he was handed. It was more than he knew what to do with. 

 

“Please, okay? It’s three hundred. Get your car fixed, next time it might not be me that spots you and I don’t want them to give you shit for it. Some of the guys in the precinct are shit,” he explained and Dallon knew he’d never be able to voice how thankful he was for the help. The part would have been his whole paycheck and he’d be struggling for food for the next two weeks. He knew he’d get by but this was more than generous. This was the sort of stuff he prayed for at night before bed.

 

“Thank you so much,” he said and the officer grinned, hitting the frame of Dallon’s car.

 

“See you around,” the officer said, hesitating for a moment before turning to walk away.

 

Dallon got his car fixed the very next day.

 

*

 

It was Monday and he was back at work, thankful to have gotten to keep his paycheck. He double checked all of his lights before getting into his car that day, doing it again before leaving work. He was not taking any risks. He’d walk home before he chanced getting pulled over for the same issue.

 

His lights worked, though. All four came on and all four stayed on. He got into his car and cranked the heat and sat there for a moment. He relaxed because there wouldn’t be any issue anymore.

 

Dallon started his drive home and was a little shocked to see the blue and red lights in his rearview mirror. There was a part of him that was just done with everything. A thought that crossed his mind was to just floor it, maybe even crash it, anything but deal with another cop for God knows what reason this time.

 

He was usually good about his language and keeping it PG, something his mother had beat into as he was growing up but when he rolled his window down and came face to face with the same cop, even his mother wouldn’t have been able to stop him.

 

“What the fuck?” He asked, smacking the palm of his hand against the steering wheel. “I fucking did what you asked. I know there’s no way in hell you pulled me over for a fucking light. I fixed that shit, I checked it before I left. You don’t believe me? Fucking look, dude,” Dallon said, flashing his high beams, not even caring if it annoyed the oncoming traffic. He was in a rage that he was  _ still  _ being pulled over.

 

Officer Urie stood there, letting Dallon get his rage out. 

 

“I didn’t pull you over for your headlight,” he said and Dallon relaxed for a moment. He was still on edge, confused why he’d be pulled over but figured it wasn’t anything bad then.

 

“Obviously,” Dallon mumbled, running a hand over his face as he sighed.

 

“But, you were going forty-two in a forty zone so I’m going to have to write you up for that,” Officer Urie said, pulling out his notepad to write the ticket down. 

 

“Are you fucking kidding me? You pull me over four times for my headlight and you don’t give a fuck about that, you even said you feel bad for me but this? I am two over the fucking speed limit and all of a sudden you’re writing me a ticket? This is a prime example of how the police force is corrupt. You have to fill a quota of tickets and you take it out on someone who made the tiniest fucking mistake,” he said, red in the face from the lack of breathing he did during his rant. Officer Urie doesn’t bother to stop writing up his ticket until Dallon is finished. He raised his eyebrows and ripped the paper out, handing it over to Dallon. 

 

“You’re cute but you need to shut the hell up,” the officer said, smiling before leaning down again. “I’m hoping you follow those instructions but I can’t force you. See you around, cutie,” he said before standing and going back to his car.

 

Dallon looked down at the paper he’d been handed. It wasn’t really a ticket. The officer wrote down an address and a poorly drawn heart. There was a time that Dallon assumed he was meant to be at the address by. His cheeks got red when he realized he was trying to be picked up. He’d been in such a rage at the bullshit reason to be pulled over that he never realized that he hadn’t been informed of a recording again. 

 

Dallon sat in his car out front of the address for a long time. It was nine in the evening and he could hardly find the courage in himself to get out. It wasn’t like he didn’t find the officer attractive. Probably the opposite of that. Dallon found him annoyingly attractive, found his profession and his seeming love of torturing Dallon even more annoying. 

 

It wasn’t like Dallon was a stranger to hookups either. He’d gone to bars in search of just someone to spend the night with and not much else. He would have to admit though that this would be the weirdest, maybe even most elaborate way that someone has picked him up though.

 

He finally got out of the car, walking up the walkway to the door and knocking, wondering if he was at the wrong house. That would have been his luck, standing at some old lady’s door, expecting sex because what else could that ticket have meant other than a booty call. 

 

The door opened and it was the officer, wearing regular clothes and smiling.

 

“Shit, I didn’t think you’d actually come,” he said, opening the door wider and motioning Dallon inside. 

 

“Yet you invited me?” He asked and the man shrugged, walking through his house. He didn’t seem nervous at all and Dallon wondered if this was something he’d done before. 

 

“I was hoping. You were being flirty that one time and I felt a little bad for torturing you. It’s easier to talk when I’m not on duty,” he said, leaning against his counter. Dallon just shrugged, looking around. It was a decent house, a little big for one person. 

  
“You have a wife?” Dallon asked, watching as the man raised his hand and showed off a lack of a ring. 

 

“No, you?” He asked back and Dallon shook his head. 

 

“Expecting sex?” Dallon asked, going for a blunt approach.

 

“Not expecting, would be a lovely surprise,” he said and Dallon nodded. He’d at one point decided that that was what he was coming for. 

 

“Well, Officer Urie, guess you’re gonna get a nice surprise,” Dallon said, smiling at the other.

 

“My names Brendon, you don’t have to call me Officer Urie,” he said, grabbing Dallon’s hand and pulling him towards Brendon’s bedroom. 

 

“Okay, Officer Urie,” Dallon said, smirking when Brendon looked over his shoulder to Dallon. 

 

Brendon made the first move, grabbing Dallon by the arm and pulling him down for a kiss. It was soft at first, both of them trying to figure out the other. Dallon pulled away, biting his lip for a second.

 

“Do you take your handcuffs home?” He asked, thinking it was a little bit of a dumb question. If he was going to sleep with a police officer, he kind of wanted to get the full experience of it.

  
“Yeah, why?” He asked and Dallon smirked. 

 

“Use them on me,” he said and Brendon froze. He looked over towards his closet, seeming to be contemplating it. 

 

“I’ve never thought about that,” he said, moving away from Dallon. He opened his closet door and dug around for a second before he pulled out two shiny metal handcuffs. He stood up and turned around, letting the cuff rest on his finger, swinging slightly when Brendon moved. Dallon’s eyes went to the cuffs, staring for a moment. He imagined what it would be like to have them on his wrists, keeping his hands down and he felt his cock twitch in his jeans. Dallon nodded his head, a smile on his face when he looked back up to meet Brendon’s eyes.

 

“Please,” he said, his voice softer, a small plea. Brendon moved forward, his hands going to Dallon’s jeans first, unbuttoning them and pushing them down before doing the same to his own. Dallon was quick to take his shirt off before he was pushed onto the bed. 

 

“Let me know if you change your mind,” Brendon said, his hand tight where he was grabbing Dallon’s wrist. He pulled Dallon’s wrists above his head, looping it through the bars. He tightened them down, the cold metal pressing into Dallon’s wrist. Dallon didn’t mind though, making a small sound when he felt the metal press into his wrist. He tugged at it for a second, hearing the chain rattle slightly when he did. Brendon smirked, moving down Dallon’s body to sit between his legs. 

 

“I kinda like being fucked, you wouldn’t mind if I rode you, right?” Brendon asked, tugging at Dallon’s boxers. His hands went to Dallon’s cock, already half hard from fantasizing about what handcuffs would feel like. Dallon shook his head, trying to push his hips up into Brendon’s hand. It was too slow still, both of them experimenting, getting a feel for the other person. 

 

“God, that’s hot,” Dallon finally got out, his eyes fluttering closed for a moment when he felt Brendon’s thumb circling the tip of his cock. 

 

“Good,” was all Dallon got in response before Brendon leaned down, first licking at the tip of his cock. He went slow, only taking small amounts of Dallon’s cock into his mouth at a time. Dallon’s eyes opened when what little mouth he’d had on his cock was suddenly gone. He looked down at Brendon, mouth half open.

 

“What?” He asked dumbly before he saw what Brendon was getting at. He had his fingers in his mouth, wetting them for a moment before pulling them out, replacing his mouth on Dallon’s cock. 

 

Dallon forced himself to keep his eyes on Brendon, watching as Brendon pushed fingers into himself slowly, his mouth moving down over Dallon’s cock as he did. Dallon was almost ashamed at how long it had been since he’d had sex and how badly he wanted to come already when they’d hardly even started.

 

“Please, I want you on my dick so badly,” Dallon said, his voice a whine. Brendon nodded, moving quickly so hs straddled Dallon, grinding against him for a moment. He rested his hands on Dallon’s chest, watching the way Dallon’s eyes closed and he tipped his head back. He bit his lip, trying to keep himself from making a noise.

 

“Oh, baby, if you think that’s good, wait till you’re inside me,” Brendon said quietly. Dallon shivered at the words, opening his eyes again. Brendon was leaned up, his hand on Dallon’s cock, waiting until he had his full attention before he sat back, both of them moaning as he did. 

 

It was obvious in Brendon’s movements that he was trying to go slow, take his time with it all but it didn’t last long. 

 

“Sir,” Dallon whimpered, still wanting to be polite in the presence of a police officer, none of that changing even though Brendon was off duty. Being called ‘Sir’ was when Brendon lost his perseverance, all intention of going slow out the window. He used his hands on Dallon’s chest as leverage, his movements more sure of himself, getting exactly what he wanted out of Dallon’s cock. 

 

Dallon wanted to reach out and touch Brendon, grab his hips and fuck up into Brendon. His hands tried and the handcuffs just rattled against the bars of Brendon’s headboard, his attempt barely even starting. Brendon didn’t seem to notice, his own head tipped back as he dropped his hips down to Dallon’s, moaning each time he did. 

 

Dallon was mesmerized with how Brendon moved on top of him. He already thought Brendon was attractive but it only got better. He was even more attractive as he moved on top of Dallon, his cock hitting against Dallon’s stomach each time, the muscles moving under his skin.

 

“Fuck, I need to come,” Dallon whined, his hands balling into fists. He looked up to Brendon’s face, jaw clenching for a moment. “Do you mind?” He asked, silently asking if it was alright to finish inside of Brendon. The other just nodded, his hips never slowing as he rode Dallon. 

 

“Please,” was all Dallon got in response, watching as Brendon’s hand went to his own cock, moving quick as Brendon looked down to Dallon. 

 

Dallon’s moan was loud as he finished, hips pushing up as much as he could into Brendon without his hands, whimpering when Brendon didn’t slow down his his movements. He held out a little longer before he came, watching as it landed over Dallon’s chest. 

 

They stayed like that for a moment, panting into the air, neither one of them quite ready to move just yet. 

 

Dallon broke the silence first.

 

“Fuck, Officer,” he said, the handcuffs reminding Dallon yet again exactly who Brendon was. 

 

“God, you can’t do that to me right after I came,” he said and Dallon just laughed.

 

Brendon got up to clean them both off, grabbing the key to his handcuffs and unlocking Dallon. 

 

“Well, as much as I hated being pulled over,” Dallon started, earning a laugh from Brendon, “I don’t think I would mind getting pulled over again if this is how it ends. Brendon nodded, laying down on his bed and looking over to Dallon who had a dazed smile on his face.

 

“Noted.”


End file.
